


Venus

by sillygrizzlies



Category: Devilman (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Blow Jobs, Crybaby designs, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Stripper AU, lotsa 80’s and electric music, mikimiki is a thing but won’t tag it, no powers au, they’re in their 20’s dw, virgin Ryo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-04-08 06:36:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14099436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sillygrizzlies/pseuds/sillygrizzlies
Summary: *NEW CHAPTER IS JUST AN UPDATE*Akira Fudo, a hopelessly broke college student, tries to get a bar tending job at a strip club. The club’s gorgeous owner, Ryo Asuka, convinces him otherwise.





	1. The Club and its Angel

**Author's Note:**

> ahh wow this is my first fic in a long while. and my first devilman fic! I hope it doesn’t show too bad lmao... 
> 
> btw: there are songs throughout the story in links. it’s totally optional to listen to them, but it’d be neat if you can ;)) 
> 
> enjoy!!

He stood before a mirror.

Five years ago, a different person would’ve been standing there. A boy with pale skin and obnoxious freckles; a frail, thin body that mocked him; even his demeanor made it obvious that he was weak. Dependent. That boy would flinch at basketballs and laugh too loudly, too abruptly at dumb jokes. He would be great at listening, only to avoid speaking. He’d step on a ladybug, and tears would spill over red, swollen cheeks. That boy was a shrimp.

Now, though, was he much different?

Akira Fudo was in that mirror. A man with tan skin and the occasional old scar; a built, striking body that cheered achievement; an entirely different style, with his wild black hair and narrow eyes. But, even after puberty hit him like a bus, granted him those muscles he so strived for, Akira wasn’t different. He still flinched, still laughed too loud, kept to himself, cried too much. He was still Akira Fudo.

And put simply, Akira Fudo was fucking broke.

He’d been staring at that mirror for too long, at this point. Twisting his torso, checking every knick in his skin and odd bend in his body. Akira was preparing for a job interview he so regretted considering. A strip club a few blocks away, deep within the gross city, that flaunted jobs with thousands of dollars in return. Akira was _praying_ he’d just land a job as a bartender, something easy and with enough clothes. But he was awfully gullible. It was safe to check his body before even tempting the stripper career.

Akira finally sighed. He turned from the mirror in his dim apartment, starting to get dressed for the interview. His place wasn’t special, really, just something he could afford while in college. Akira’s previous job definitely hadn’t paid enough, and he barely tolerated being a cashier anyways. Better he found a new job rather than move farther from campus, and even risk starving.

He dressed in something casual, but better than sweats: a navy dress shirt, rather loose on his torso, with black slacks. Akira didn’t want to impress _too_ much, in all modesty.

  
  


 

 

  
Akira had mixed feelings when the strip club was within walking distance. Convenient, he supposed, but it certainly said something about his neighborhood.

Evening was setting in. The sky was dimming, but the city certainly wasn’t. If anything, everything became brighter at night, more grand. It was almost difficult to pick out the club’s sign from amongst all the neon.

_Venus._

The logo’s letters curled together with ease in a neon blue, bright against the dark backdrop of the narrow building. Of course, windows were kept to a minimum, with only two large views into the place from the entrance. From just the street, you could see flashing lights and excitement inside. [Music](https://youtu.be/uqo0MdK_4qs) humming behind the glass.

For a moment, Akira caught himself enchanted by the exterior illusions, before he was promptly reminded again. Posters lined the walls, prompting open, well-paying jobs within the club, although none specified exactly what those jobs entailed.

Finally, Akira shrugged, and stepped past the bouncer and into Venus.

 

 

 

  
It was overwhelming in the club.

He could feel the music in his chest, pounding against him as he stepped through the club. It was packed with suited men and nude women — at times the opposite was true — and the alcohol was as potent as the smell of tobacco. Akira had heard rumors of the club, how easy it was to fall within its jowls and waste the night away. But he certainly wasn’t looking for anything more than a job.

The club had a clean style to it, despite its crude guests. Black walls and ceiling tiles, lined with blue neon and ambience lighting. The bar was centered closest to the door, likely to lure its patrons into expensive cocktails and spiked shots. And, of course, the main attraction was obvious. The stage was narrow and stretched across the long of the building, with three main poles standing out. Only two dancers had occupied the poles, though, twisting and flicking their bodies towards the crowd. Glancing up, the ceiling was rather high, although revealed an outlook from a room above. Wide windows, cloaked with curtains, overlooked the loud chaos below.

Akira had only been staring once he reached the center, before he felt slender fingers meet his shoulder. He glanced back, and a fit woman greeted him. Her green eyes looked him over, and before she could offer anything, he decided to speak up first. “N-Not a guest. Here for a job interview.”

The woman perked up and her smile brightened from the sly look it once had. “Oh!” Her voice was loud above the music, and even he could tell she was surprised. “That’s why you looked so clueless! Follow me, big guy.” With that, her touch left him and she began weaving through the crowd.

Akira, undoubtedly still clueless, followed.

  
  


 

 

  
They had left the foggy mess of the main floor for the back area, where both skimpy women and men were scrambling around, presumably comfortable with the mutual nudity. The woman, whom eventually introduced herself as Miki, brought him to a flight of stairs distanced from the performer’s area.

Once Miki suddenly abandoned him, Akira finally could breathe. Jesus. He’d seen too many tits and balls for one night, but had to press on.

Akira began the ascent up the stairs, which he soon realized were white. In fact, everything was beginning to go pale against the former black scheme. He approached a door at the top and took a moment to adjust himself.

The door read _’Ryo’._

Dumb name. The owner or whoever was probably some old scamp, but before Akira could second guess himself, he was stepping in.

The atmosphere had him taken aback. White, alike the stairs outside, was everywhere. The marble floors were akin to the walls, where vintage paintings hung proudly. Nude, of course. Modern furniture and a fur rug were at the center, while a large bed sat at just the back of the room. Curtains were to the side, colors flashing behind them. Akira guessed this was the room overlooking the club. And, despite the consistently white scheme within the room, the lights above were a dim blue. He could barely make out the figure seated in a white couch before him.

When he did, all previous assumptions were promptly tossed out.

On the couch sat a man, his hair a pearly blonde against his fair skin. It was tossed neatly in an undercut that framed a porcelain face, looking at him patiently. His lips were a dull pink and held a cigarette between them, occasionally letting smoke seep from its sides, yet they were not smiling at him. The man was dressed in a plump fur coat and dress shirt; Akira could barely make out the white cat curled quietly in his lap, his fingers stroking it gently.

Perhaps most striking of all was the man’s eyes. Blue. The brightest color in the room, watching him through lidded eyes that left him breathless.

“Hello.”

When he spoke, Akira was brought from his trance. He’d been far too attentive this evening. “...Hello. Uh, Akira Fudo.” He stepped further into the room, letting the door close behind him.

“Mm.” The man, whom he assumed was Ryo at this point, nodded briefly. Oh, even his voice was pretty. “You came through the club, didn’t you?”

“Heh,” Akira managed an uneasy smile, reaching back to grip the nape of his neck. “Yeah, never been here before so I didn’t know my way around… Girl named Miki helped me.”

Ryo finally cracked a smile and took the cigarette from his lips. “You have a drink spilled on your shirt.”

Akira sighed as he glanced down, affirming his acknowledgement. Cheeky — and there goes his cologne. “Damn.” He muttered, picking at the fabric sticking to his chest, smelling of potent vodka.

“I’ll have a new one bought for you, don’t worry.” Ryo ever so casually mentioned, before gesturing to a seat beside the couch. “Sit.”

Even after his strange offer, Akira couldn’t deny the exhaustion growing in his legs. He sat promptly, and discovered how plush this sharply-modern furniture was.

The man was looking him over, definitely checking him out. That was pretty much his job, though, so he couldn’t blame him. “You’re here for which position?”

“Uh,” Akira straightened his back as his brows rose hopefully. “Bartender?”

Ryo’s dainty laugh filled the room, his knuckles covering his mouth as he did so. The cat in his lap glanced up. “Even you sound doubtful… Akira, we both realize the real money is in another position.”

Damn, did he like the sound of his name coming from his lips.

“Yeah, honestly.” Akira was rubbing the back of his head again, chuckling quietly. “I mean… What are the requirements for stripping?”

“Oh.” Ryo looked surprised he even asked. “Well, you pass them so far. Your sharp, bad boy look is something this club could certainly benefit from.”

Bad boy? “W-Well…” Akira found himself stumbling over his words. “What about the whole dancing thing?”

The man was quiet for a moment, occupied with dragging smoke from his cigarette, a hand returning to pet his cat. Then, he spoke up.

“Strip.”

Even when he saw it coming, Akira felt his gut drop. It wasn’t like he was self conscious, not anymore anyways. Just the idea of dropping his clothes for a stranger was odd. He’d have to get over it, he supposed.

With a sigh, Akira stood. He began unbuttoning his shirt, admittedly thankful to get the sticky mess off his chest, and letting it fall from his shoulders. He managed a few glances at the man as he worked on his pants; Ryo was watching him intently, as if studying him, researching him.

Then went his pants, briefs slowly following.

Akira kicked off the last of his clothing, leaving him bare nude in front of this man. And his cat, apparently. To his surprise, Ryo stood, said cat leaping from his lap and remaining on the couch.

“Good.” Ryo muttered to himself, his cigarette between his teeth as he admired the built man before him. His eyes were flickering from his firm chest, down to his crotch, and circled him. Akira felt the man’s eyes on him, examining every muscle on his body, commenting to himself quietly. “Akira,”

He perked up, looking down at Ryo, now positioned in front of him. He took his cigarette, sending it to the floor and stepping on it. “I’d like to see you erect, if possible.”

“Oh.” Akira blinked. He glanced from his dick, up to Ryo, again to his dick. _Oh_. “Y-You mean, like… Touch myself?”

Ryo just nodded. Like it was the most casual exchange on the planet.

Well, he was at least gonna have a seat. Akira sat in his chair again, and gradually, his hand gripped the shaft of his cock. He kept his breathing slow as he leaned back, his hand stroking along the soft length in efforts to arouse it. He realized he’d become rather focused on the task when he didn’t even notice Ryo shedding his coat, stepping up to him.

Then, he was kneeling. Akira’s breath hitched as a pale, slender hand wrapped around his own, stroking with him. Ryo’s eyes were locked on the cock before him, watching it grow hard and thick in their hands. God, Akira had to admit that the blonde, knelt between his legs, touching his dick with ease, was breathtaking. Ryo was gorgeous.

Finally, Akira’s hand left from underneath Ryo’s. He let the man work him until his hips gave a buck, and a noise left his throat. “Mm.” Ryo hummed, and his fist had suddenly stopped. “8-9 inches erect. Impressive.”

Akira realized he was panting, a sweat having built up on his skin as he watched Ryo just _sit_ there. “Could you… Um…” He found it difficult to catch his breath, looking at him with lidded eyes. “Fuck, please…?”

Ryo suddenly perked up, as if he’d forgotten he was there. With another angelic laugh, he smiled. “Akira.” He began, his wrist starting to stroke his cock again. “I never let an interviewee finish, unless they’ve got the job…”

Then, his tongue was on his tip, swirling the head slowly. Ryo’s lips took him in, the wet embrace of his mouth surrounding his cock. A gasp left him at the warmth. Those plump lips worked the length of his dick, taking him with ease. He felt the back of Ryo’s throat, a wonderful tightness around his cock that made him buck. He didn’t even _choke_.

“Fuck…” Akira cursed. He wanted to reach out, tangle his fingers in his beautiful head of hair, but it almost felt like a crime. His blonde halo bobbed in his lap, a fist gripping the base of his cock as Ryo swallowed his cock.

Ryo looked up at him. Those blue, gentle eyes sent him over the edge, and Akira came with a groan. His hips rolled forward into his throat, spilling a mess into his mouth.

It took him a moment, but Ryo soon sat up with a wet pop. Those soft lips were a swollen pink, parted to let him pant quietly, hands moving to grip his thighs. He had swallowed his whole load. _Shit_.

Ryo reached out, his palm resting Akira’s side, and he stood.

“You’re hired.” 

 


	2. The Devils Under Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira finally meets Venus’ devils.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah, so glad I could continue this fic and get a story going ~
> 
> a lot of this chapter is conversation and exposition into the plot, but I tried to make Miki and Miko pretty fun!

The next morning had been a slough of regrets.

Akira wasn’t promiscuous. Far from it, in fact. He’d survived through high school as a virgin, up until his freshman year in college. Even then, his first wasn’t a stranger. Unlike Ryo. Or, _boss_ now, he supposed.

And now, Akira, a god awful charmer and decent dancer, was a stripper. His night had been stolen effortlessly within the loud colors of the club. Even the pungent scent of vodka and sex still clung to him. But despite that, Akira easily could’ve settled for a job behind the bar or outside as a bouncer. He appeared tough and intimidating — certainly someone any prick wouldn’t bother with — and he figured looks were the only requirements for any job there. Of course, that prediction only tangled him further into the club.

Still, Akira’s mind kept returning to Ryo. The owner: curled comfortably upon a satin couch, petting a cat with dainty hands, decorated in rings and jewelry. His steady gaze, his lethal smile, his thin body arching before him.

His lips.

Fuck. Akira couldn’t allow himself to pop a boner while literally standing at the ATM. Instead, he busied his mind with adult things. His taxes were of the necessity those days, and he’d definitely need to get some _real_ job, enough to tide him over until something better came along—

$23 in his bank account.

The chill of the morning air had suddenly become very trivial as he stood there, staring at the numbers blankly. Alright. Maybe he needed this job.

 

 

  
The owner had graciously emailed him a rough schedule of his training nights that month, mostly during the weekdays, when the club was far less busy. Akira hadn’t the faintest clue of how to be prepared before his first night, spending an hour scrambling between his closet and dresser, and slaving at his mess of a mane. By the end of it, his floor was covered in failed attempts at a “sexy” outfit. And finally, Akira stood in the tightest pair of jeans he owned, and a sleeveless t-shirt from high school. He’d given up on his hair.

Akira threw on a leather jacket and began the trek through the city, weaving through the traffic of the sidewalks. He shuddered in the biting cold, and was rather thankful when the heat of the club met him from the back door. Rubbing at his shoulders, Akira could finally take in the atmosphere of the back.

It was a given that nudity wasn’t an issue here, Akira had learned that on his first visit. What surprised him was the rather consistent dress code among the dancers — hues of blue and white, opaque and fitted for each body. Really, shockingly good taste for a strip club. Interactions between the dancers seemed pleasant as well, as there was plenty of joking and laughter to be heard in the dressing rooms. Women and men alike were applying makeup at their mirrors, clicking around in heels, practicing moves on poles and even each other.

For a moment, Akira caught himself enjoying it all.

He only perked up when a familiar woman appeared at his side.

“Pfft, you look like a greaser, dude.” She landed a smack on his back as she grinned, looking up at him as if he were an old friend. “I take it you got the job?” Miki, if he remembered correctly, was looking him over.

“Ah, yeah.” Akira stepped back politely, straightening himself out and trying to ignore her comment. Maybe the leather jacket was a bit much. “Thanks for helping me out before the interview.”

Miki waved him off. “No problem. It’s super easy to get lost in that crowd…” She had glanced down at her bra, and casually retrieved a slip of paper tucked between her breast. “Hm, right… Akira Fudo. The bad boy.”

Was he really known for that now? “...That’s my name, yeah.”

She was silent for a moment as she read through the text on the paper, pursing her lips, and suddenly turned on her heel. “Miko!”

Another woman had turned from her mirror, gazing quizzically at Miki, before her eyes brightened. She approached them with an excited smile, her hands working at her hair to wind it into a neat braid. Oh, and she just happened to be topless. “Fresh meat.”

“Nice to meet you too.” Akira chimed cynically, although offered a friendly smile. The pair seemed kind enough, albeit rather forward with him. “So… Miki and Miko?”

“Well, yeah. Kinda.” Miki shrugged as she leaned into the other, and promptly changed the topic. “So! Ryo has requested we be your guides on your first month. We’ll show you how to milk your patrons’ money.” She sneered innocently.

Miko tied off her braid and flipped it over her shoulder. “Looks like he’s got special requests for you, too...” Her arm fell around Miki’s waist as she leaned in, peering at the sheet. “...Um, the fuck?”

“Yeah… I noticed that too…” Miki pursed her lips and stared at the paper.

Akira stood stiff before the girls, trying _not_ to accidentally stare at Miko’s tits. “...Huh?”

“Well.” Miki glanced up at him again. “Ryo usually enforces a pretty strict dress code. Just shades of blue and white. But… He’s requesting you get only red and black costuming.”

“Fucking lucky.” Miko crossed her arms as she gave Akira a glare, although accompanied it with a smirk.

Akira had to admit that was rather odd, especially considering their reactions. Ryo didn’t seem like the type of man to bend his own rules, but if he had to guess, it was probably because of the whole ‘bad boy’ stigma put on him. He was far more concerned with _how_ he was to acquire this costuming, anyways. “Well, uh. I don’t have many outfits that’ll work in the first place…”

Miki was suddenly perked up, her smile bright. “Akira! Shopping is part of this job, y’know… We’ll help you pick out your first few outfits with the funds Ryo provided.”

Akira was taken back by the idea, but at least he wouldn’t need to pay out of pocket. His poor bank account could only handle ramen for the next few weeks. “Oh, hell yeah.” He managed a smile for the two, who already seemed excited at the suggestion. “Um, I don’t actually start for a while though, right?”

Miko adjusted her thong as she nodded. “You’ll be training for a while before we throw you out on the pole. Speakin’ of which, your trainer is…” She strained to look over Miki again, and without a notice, she had snorted. “Oh, I’m _sorry_...”

“Sirene will train you.” Miki finished Miko’s thought with a roll of her eyes as the other laughed. “Listen, she’s not that bad! Just kind of, uh, strict. And…” She glanced over him again as her brows furrowed. “She might try to fuck you?”

“What.” He immediately deadpanned.

Miko nudged the other and she cackled, hands on her hips. “Sirene is a cougar, bro. A _very_ horny one, too.”

“She’s a great dancer, though!” Miki pursed her lips as she stuck out her finger, as though scolding her partner. Despite their bickering, the pair seemed to be rather good friends. Or, something like that.

Finally, Miko was reduced to a taunting smirk, and Miki could finish. “Alright, Akira.. We’ll talk more when we shop tomorrow. You have some chores tonight.”

With that, the girls had taken him by the hand, and rushed him off from the main hall. Akira was promptly ordered to do busy work for them as they schemed, which mostly consisted of cleaning their respective spaces. Miki’s was rather tame. But Miko’s dressing room, however, was hell. He spent most of his night sorting through piles of thongs and lingerie, wiping down her mirror and table matted in makeup, and cleaning various snacks from the corners of her room. Miko reveled in his boredom.

At 3am, Akira was finally released, and gratefully returned to his apartment.

He was almost disappointed when he realized Ryo hadn’t made any appearance since their first meeting.

 

 

 

  
When Akira would finally awake the next day, the city had already stirred and busied beneath a bright sun. Noon. While he was used to late night shifts at other jobs, Akira had a habit of sleeping far past the necessity. He could easily sleep the day away if the city’s noises weren’t a persistent alarm.

Akira dragged himself from the embrace of his mattress and stepped into his bathroom. As he brushed his teeth, he couldn’t help but picture his own face in makeup. Male dancers at the club had the full getup — fierce eyes, thick lashes, shimmering cheeks and sharp jawlines. Of course he hadn’t the slightest clue of how to do makeup, but if Ryo wished for it, perhaps his mentors would teach him.

His mind was brought back to the thought. If Ryo wished for it. Akira knew he was his boss and all, but oddly enough, he felt entirely controlled by him.

Anything the angel wanted, he supposed.

Glad he didn’t have any classes that day, Akira went on with his “morning”. He threw on a shirt and jeans before he settled on dry cereal, pouring a bowl of froot-loops. He’d just began to relax again when his phone suddenly erupted.

UNKNOWN: HEY!! You better be awake!!  
UNKNOWN: This is Miki, btw.

It certainly wasn’t difficult to guess.

AKIRA: sure I’m awake.  
MIKI: Good! Be ready, pretty boy.  
AKIRA: for what?  
MIKI: Lol. We’re going shopping loser.

Akira huffed as he pursed his lips. He’d forgotten about the “special requests”, and his mentors’ eager suggestion of a shopping trip. It was now much less of an offer and more of a definite.

AKIRA: alright. I’m not paying a cent.  
MIKI: Deal.

  
  


 

  
Akira was shocked when a stunning silver convertible parked before his apartment building, Miki and Miko occupying the front seats. Their [music](https://youtu.be/_D3udbawA1Q) was a loud hum among the afternoon city.

“Get in.” Miko called out, bobbing her head to the song as she glanced at him over her sunglasses.

He didn’t need to be told twice. Akira jumped the edge and into the backseat, offering the girls a pleasant smile. As he made himself comfy, he almost didn’t spot Miki and Miko’s hands entwined on the console. If Akira were a moron, he’d pass it off as friendly, platonic affection. He was fortunately only half an idiot, though.

“So,” Miki suddenly spoke up as Miko turned off into the street again, driving through the afternoon traffic. Her other hand was brought up, revealing a gracious wad of cash. “Let’s start at Calvin Klein.”

  
  


 

  
If Akira thought he was financially challenged before, he suddenly felt completely penniless after following his mentors through store after store. The girls drove him through outfits and accessories totaling in the thousands without a care. At some point, they’d gotten sick of Akira’s complaining, and wouldn’t bother giving him the receipt altogether.

They’d now landed themselves in some other retail store at the mall, with Akira and crew couped up in a dressing room. He was tugging a pair of shorts up his thighs, made of some dark, velvety fabric that drove the price into the triple digits. God, he could only imagine how much ramen he could buy with this money instead.

It was when the shorts suddenly reared just below his cheeks did Akira hear cackling behind him. “See? I told you his ass is too big.”

Miki couldn’t help her own giggling as she stood, grabbing the hem of his shorts to help hike them over his hips. “Again, not a bad quality.”

“Christ,” Akira let out a heavy breath as he stood before the mirror, crossing his arms. “Why the hell does my outfit even matter on stage, anyways? I’m gonna take it off eventually.”

Miko stood, giving him a firm smack on the ass as she approached him. Of course, he yipped. “Akira, stripping is all about anticipation. It’s a _performance_.” She pursed her lips as she looked at him, folding her arms. “And don’t ask that around Sirene. She’ll give you a mouthful.”

“Plus, you’ve gotta keep the tips somewhere.” Miki chimed in with an innocent smile, before turning to him, holding out a fishnet crop top. “Here, try this with those shorts.”

Akira took it and obliged his mentors. He’d been at this for hours now, pleasing their every excited clothing choice. Like some damn Ken doll. He was only grateful it was Ryo’s money, though, who seemed gluttonously wealthy anyways.

Ryo. He was on his mind again.

“Hey,” Akira suddenly spoke up as he pulled on the croptop. “Uh… Ryo interviewed you guys, right?”

“Of course.” Miki nodded and sat back down behind him, where Miko joined her. “He’s interviewed everyone who’s been through that club.”

Akira found himself fidgeting with the top, picking at the hem. He wasn’t sure if he was even allowed to speak of this, although the act had been a curiosity on his mind ever since. “Right, well… Did he have you guys strip down?”

The pair was silent for a moment, exchanging baffled glances. “Eh, no?” Miko muttered, before she suddenly gasped. “Did he make _you_?”

“W-Well he didn’t make me! I just complied.” Akira corrected her with a shake of his hands. “And, really, that wasn’t all…”

Miki’s jaw dropped into a gape. “Akira. What else did he do?”

He was silent a moment longer, but bit the bullet. “Sucked me off.”

“Fuck! No way!” Miko probably cursed louder than necessary, earning her a nudge from a pouting Miki. With a smirk, she returned to Akira. “Okay, this is a big deal.”

“At least, in rumors…” Miki chimed in.

“...Sure, whatever. Rumors.” Miko waved her off and continued. “But, apparently Ryo hasn’t ever gotten laid. He’s a _virgin_.”

Akira was rendered silent, staring back at the pair through the mirror. He blinked and turned on his heel, brows furrowed. “You’re fucking with me.” He was completely in disbelief. “He _told_ me he never lets his interviewees cum unless they got the job, so… That means he does that to everyone, right…?”

“Oh, lies.” Miko rolled her eyes.

“Well, what she means…” Miki leaned forward as she explained. “During every meeting and interview Ryo has, he _always_ has his assistant, Jenny, there. Like, she’s basically glued to him. She definitely would’ve told us if Ryo blew some guy during an interview. And… That’s never happened.”

Jenny? Akira was still swimming in these developments. “So…” He trailed off into a pause. “His assistant wasn’t at our interview… And Ryo definitely uh, _touched_ me.”

The girls turned to each other, and the sneers on their faces only grew more ecstatic. Even Miki was sporting an eager grin at the thought.

“Looks like Ryo finally has a favorite, hm?”


	3. UPDATE!! sorry ;n;

hi everyone!!

first of all, thank you SO MUCH for all the support and love you’ve been giving me... it’s so wonderful to read all your comments ;;u;; it brightens my day so much...

okay, but moving on:

**I’M NOT ABANDONING THIS FIC**

I have so much story planned for this, and I’m sooo excited to write it all and continue the fic for you guys... but I’ve been overwhelmed with work and school lately, and it’s really difficult to find the time to sit down and write. 

don’t need a sob-story or anything, I just wanted to update anyone waiting for a new chapter. 

again, thank you, and ily all!!! 

fyi — I’m always on tumblr if y’all want frequent updates: @jinkoe

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> if you have the time, please leave me a comment on any suggestions or otherwise ;00 any feedback is really appreciated <3 
> 
> thank you so much!


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